


Self-Deception

by Dark Star Of Chaos (DarkDecepticon)



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon Compliant, Implied Relationship, Implied Slash, Missing Scene, Other, implied depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:04:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8668648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDecepticon/pseuds/Dark%20Star%20Of%20Chaos
Summary: To kill Megatron and take over the Decepticons are what Starscream wants more than anything. Really, they are. And if he doesn't take the opportunities that come his way, well, there are always reasons. Reasons to wait, reasons why the time isn't right. But the day will come when he'll see an opportunity and take it. Of course it will.
He just needs to conquer the weaknesses of his own spark first.





	

**Author's Note:**

> How did this happen? My initial idea for this story was only ever meant to be a couple thousand words max. How did I end up with _this?_
> 
> Oh well. Here's my (lengthy) contribution to October's edition of the G1 Missing Scenes challenge. A month late, but hey. And to anyone interested in joining in: 7ooo words isn't necessary. Really. A thousand will do. *sigh*
> 
> A note on terms: "Metastasis" is a medical term which refers to cancer spreading via the blood stream or lymphatic system to infect other parts of the body.

Insulted and cast aside. Again!

 He really should have been used to this by now, Starscream mused darkly as the door to Megatron's quarters slid shut behind him. It wasn't like he often received better treatment from his leader. But it was worse this time, because he hadn't just been passed over in favor of another - he'd been passed over in favor of an _Autobot._ An Autobot who, if he really was the _expert_ Megatron claimed, would only repeat what Starscream had already said.

 "Limited knowledge," Starscream muttered scathingly, stalking down the hallway. "I _know_ rust when I see it."

 He also had a nagging suspicion that he knew what kind of rust it was, although he hadn't yet analyzed the fragment he'd taken from the meteorite that hit Megatron. He'd been too busy acting as Megatron's _proxy._

 "Frag that." Starscream turned sharply towards the Command Center and switched on his comm unit. "Soundwave, mobilize the Stunticons. Megatron wants the Autobot, Perceptor, captured."

 The soft hiss of white noise was his only reply for a few seconds. Then, ::Query: why?::

 Starscream growled, slamming the side of his fist into the wall, then doubled over with a hiss when pain lanced up his arm. "Because Decepticon science apparently isn't good enough for him," he ground out, cradling the limb to his chest. "Kindly pass that on to Shockwave next time you're in communication. I'll tell the Constructicons."

 It only occurred to him after he said it that Megatron really had insulted _all_ of them by demanding Autobot aid. Not the Constructicons so much, since they were technically engineers, but Soundwave and Shockwave were... competent in some fields. Oddly, it eased Starscream's anger not to be the only one slighted.

 ::Transmissions: unnecessary,:: Soundwave stated. ::I will assemble the Stunticons.::

 Starscream grunted, carefully flexing the fingers of his throbbing hand. "You don't even care, do you?"

 ::Perceptor isn't a warrior. His being on the _Victory_ will present no immediate threat.::

 "That _isn't_ what I meant and you know it!"

 Another static pause. ::Affirmative. However, Megatron has his reasons.::

"In other words, you're just going to go along with his lunacy." Starscream turned his hand over and stilled, optics narrowing. "Have it your way, then. But remind me to have Hook scan him when this is over, because I'm convinced he's blown his logic circuits."

 His comm unit pinged with an incoming communication before Soundwave could reply, and Starscream left the telepath's line open as he answered Hook. "Status report."

 ::We found it,:: Hook said, and for once there was no haughtiness in his tone. ::It's just like you said; patches of rust everywhere those meteors hit Astrotrain.::

 "And overlooked because it doesn't resemble normal rust, right?" Starscream closed his fist again, hiding the dark brown mark on his palm. "Is there any sign that it's spreading to inert metals?"

 ::None. Whatever this is, it only seems attack _living_ metal.::

 Starscream nodded, even though there was no one to see him. "Soundwave, has Rumble shown any sign of pain or discoloration?"

 ::Unknown. Rumble is already docked.::

 "Of course he is," Starscream grumbled. "You and he and whoever else you have with you need to be checked over. Hook, have any of you _avoided_ direct contact with Astrotrain and anyone who's touched him?"

 ::Only Mixmaster and Bonecrusher.::

 What a choice. "Get one of them to scan Soundwave and the cassettes when they arrive, but make sure they don't touch _anyone_ without gloves. In fact, anyone who hasn't touched Astrotrain should do the same, in case they haven't caught it yet."

 ::Caught what?:: Hook demanded.

 "The same thing Astrotrain and Megatron have." _The same thing_ **_I_ ** _have._

 ::Are you telling me this stuff is contagious? And that you actually know what it _is?::_

 "Did I stutter?" Starscream resumed walking, resisting the urge to rub his aching arm.

 Hook hissed in irritation. ::And? Can you _cure_ it?::

 "...I know how."

 ::But?::

 "But nothing!" Starscream snapped, suddenly angry again. "I can do it, I just need to get a few things first."

 ::In route to med bay,:: Soundwave cut in. ::I will comm the Stunticons on the way.::

 “Send Blitzwing with them,” Starscream said. "They’ll need some way to transport Perceptor _if_ they catch him, and someone needs to make sure those maniacs stay on target."

 ::Perceptor?:: Hook repeated. ::What are you talking about?::

 "Ask Soundwave, I don't have time to explain. Because if this goes sideways, which I fully expect, I'm not interested in rusting to death."

 That said, Starscream severed both connections. Maybe he'd been a little premature in saying he knew what the rust was without a proper analysis, but he didn't think so. He had never personally seen this rust disease before, but the notes he'd once stumbled across in Shockwave's lab described the illness quite thoroughly, and he was sure that was what the Decepticons were now facing. What _was_ premature was saying he could cure it. He'd never had to actually _make_ the cure before, and the compound's key ingredient was hardly common. If he couldn't obtain it, Perceptor might end up being the Decepticons' only hope after all. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

 Why? Why did Megatron have so much faith in an _Autobot's_ ability to cure this? Starscream could understand having his own opinion ignored, but why wouldn't Megatron summon Shockwave if he needed an "expert's" help? As much as Starscream detested the other scientist, even _he_ would have been preferable to placing any form of trust in an enemy.

 Then again, Megatron had allowed _Starscream_ to tend to his damage - and not for the first time, either - so clearly, his judgement was flawed to begin with.

 It wouldn't be hard to put an end to this charade. To go back and finish Megatron off while he was weakened. No one would even have to know Starscream was to blame; this rust was fatal, and it must have reached Megatron's vents already, judging by his earlier coughing. All Starscream really needed to do was delay things long enough for the illness to run its course, and that would be the end of it.

 He wouldn't do that, though. He already knew he wouldn't, just as he hadn't taken any previous opportunity to end Megatron while the other was in his care. And why?

 Because Starscream was the one who'd started the fragging cycle in the first place.

 It had been in the aftermath of one of the last major battles the Autobots won on Cybertron. Starscream himself hadn't taken part, having been resting along with his unit after escorting a supply convoy to Megatron's stronghold, but he'd seen the results. So many were injured that the on-base scientists had to be called in to assist the medical staff. That should have included Starscream, but he had elected to follow a damaged Megatron to the warlord's quarters instead - uninvited, but far enough back that he went unnoticed.

 Starscream wasn't yet Second-in-Command at that time, but his hatred for Megatron was already firmly in place, and he'd begun to make occasional death threats. But it wasn't until the moment he stood in Megatron's doorway, watching his leader start laboriously patching his own injuries, that he first seriously considered following through. He might have even tried it, if Megatron hadn't noticed him.

 Megatron told him later that he'd known exactly what the Seeker was thinking then, and maybe that was true. All Starscream knew for sure was that Megatron had simply watched him, as though waiting to see what he would do, and the murderous urge had passed as quickly as it had come. Megatron had allowed Starscream to approach him, and to take over repairs when he refused to go to the overtaxed med bay. He had even allowed Starscream to lie next to him afterward, one wing draped over his damaged frame, and though neither had slept, it had still been a rare moment of peace between them.

 Starscream could offer any number of excuses for his behavior then, and did so whenever Megatron decided to bring it up. But he honestly didn't know _what_ he'd been thinking when he did that. He only remembered how he’d felt: lonely, miserable and desperate to be acknowledged instead of ignored for a change.

 He growled irritably, shaking off the memories with a flick of his wings. The reasons _why_ didn’t matter after so long. All that mattered was that Megatron had been a fool for permitting it, then and every time since, and Starscream himself had been weak for not taking his chance. But not anymore. If he found such a perfect opportunity now, he wouldn't waste it on sentimentality.

 So why did he keep doing it? And why were his steps taking him to the Command Center rather than back the way he'd come?

 The worsening burn in his arm provided a convenient explanation. Killing Megatron, or even just delaying his plan, would take time Starscream couldn't afford to spare. There was no point in acting if he died too.

 His agitation thus quieted, he marched into the Command Center. A quick glance around showed the room to be empty except for Shrapnel and Thrust, who were probably supposed to be watching the monitors, but instead seemed to be more interested in arguing about some no doubt trivial matter.

 "If you two aren't going to do any actual _work,_ you might as well get out of here," Starscream snarled loudly, making both jump.

 "The bug started it!" Thrust protested. Shrapnel hissed at him, but Starscream cut across both of them.

 "Well, you can finish it somewhere else! _I_ actually have work to do, and I don't need you simpletons getting in my way!"

 Shrapnel gave him a baleful look. "We're watching the monitors, monitors."

 "Not anymore." Starscream pointed emphatically at the doors. "Now get out, both of you!"

 "Yeah yeah, we're going," Thrust grumbled. "C'mon, midget, we can finish our _talk_ in the training room."

 "Just don't slag each other," Starscream ordered, careful to keep plenty of space between himself and them as they passed. "Hook has better things to do than put idiots back together."

 "I'll try to hold back," Thrust promised smugly. Shrapnel's reply was lost as the doors slid shut, but Starscream was already heading for the main computer, and barely even noticed the other Seeker’s comment.

 "This had better work," he muttered, dragging a chair to the console. He sat down and entered a rapid series of commands, wincing as the movements sent pain through his fingers and up his arm. The strut-deep ache that accompanied it had yet to climb above his elbow, but he knew that as soon as the rust got into his fuel lines, it would spread through his entire body within minutes. And then it could start its grim work in earnest.

 "Come _on,"_ he growled impatiently, slamming his good hand down on the edge of the control panel. "Answer already!"

 A few more seconds crept painfully by. Then the screen before him finally flickered to life, replacing the black expanse with a familiar purple frame.

 "Starscream," Shockwave greeted in a voice that was somehow even flatter than usual. "To what do I owe this unfortunate communication?"

 "You don't. I need to speak to Octane, not you."

 Shockwave lowered his head slightly; a movement Starscream had come to recognize as a sign that he was going to be obstructionist. "You must realize that, given the trouble you have both caused in the past, I have no reason to grant your request."

Starscream raised his wings in warning. "It isn't a _request,_ Shockwave. It's an _order._ And the fact that I outrank you should be reason enough for you to obey it!"

 "Any order of yours which involves Octane is suspicious. Where's Megatron?"

 The blunt question was as infuriating as it was predictable, and Starscream's fists clenched despite the pain. "He's busy," he bit out, plowing on when Shockwave tried to speak. "If you want to hang around and listen, fine. But I _don't_ have time to argue with you!"

 Shockwave regarded him in silence for a moment, and not for the first time, Starscream wished he would give some indication of what he was thinking. Then he turned to someone Starscream couldn't see - possibly just a drone - and said, "Find Octane and bring him here. Quickly."

 "That's _very_ magnanimous of you," Starscream drawled. Shockwave's gaze returned to him.

 "What could Megatron be so busy with that he would leave you without supervision?"

 Starscream scowled. "I do _not_ need supervision."

 "It isn't safe to leave you to your own devices," Shockwave countered. "Where is he?"

 "If you _must_ know, he's in his quarters." Starscream leaned back in his chair, absently rubbing his infected arm. "And before you accuse me of anything, yes, he's alive. For now."

 He expected to be accused of foul play anyway after that choice of words, but Shockwave was silent again, doing nothing but gaze at the Seeker. Starscream stared right back, trying determinedly to look capable and in control rather than like someone who needed to be watched.

 A riot of noise behind him made him jump, and he twisted around to glare at the Stunticons as they entered the room. They seemed to be locked in a heated debate over who would be the one to capture Perceptor, making bets and boasts alike that they couldn't possibly back up. If any of them noticed the presence of an officer they pointedly ignored him, but Starscream wanted them gone more than he wanted to correct their shaky grasp of protocol. So he just glowered at them until they vanished down the hall leading to the docking tower, then turned back to the screen with a low growl.

 "You aren't going to reprimand them?" Shockwave asked.

 "Why should I? They're Megatron's creations, not mine," Starscream snapped. Then he realized just how _wrong_ that sounded and groaned. "Forget I said that."

 "They're soldiers, not younglings. They're fully capable of respecting the chain of command if one bothers to enforce it."

 "Those untried _fledglings_ are not soldiers!" Starscream spat, surprising himself with his own vehemence. "They've hardly seen combat, they have no proper training, they've never lost comrades - They don't understand _war!"_

 As usual, Shockwave wasn't at all impressed by the outburst. "Then perhaps someone should correct their inexperience."

 "Oh... Shut up."

 To Starscream's intense frustration Shockwave did just that, leaving him nothing to distract himself with while he waited. He didn't trust Shockwave to call him back when Octane arrived, though, so he resumed his one-sided stare down and tried to ignore the growing need to check his arm for rust.

 Finally, Shockwave turned away from the screen to once again address an unseen bot. "You have a communication from Starscream." He moved out of view as he finished speaking, and was replaced by a new mech.

 "You took your time," Starscream growled. Octane heaved an obviously exaggerated sigh.

 "Look, if this is about what happened on Monacus, I've already told Megatron I didn't know Gyconi was conning us, okay? I just carry the cubes, I don't check 'em."

 "You should be doing both," Starscream snapped. "But no, that's not what this is about."

 "Oh." Octane visibly straightened, casting a pointed glance to where Shockwave was presumably hovering. "Business, then?"

 "Of a sort." Starscream typed out a short list with one hand, keeping the other tucked firmly against his canopy. "Don't worry about Shockwave," he added absently. "I'll take care of him when we're done."

 "That's not comforting, considering he's here and you're there."

 Starscream looked up from his typing and frowned when he noticed Shockwave, hovering just behind the triplechanger's shoulder and staring hard at the Seeker. "Can we _help_ you?" Starscream asked. Then he shook his head. "Never mind. I need a few things I don't have, and I don't have time to look for them. Here's the list."

 "Why did you need to speak to Octane about this?" Shockwave asked as Starscream sent the document. "Surely our stores could supply any compounds you might need. Unless you're after restricted materials."

 "Not restricted, just fragging difficult to get hold of," Starscream muttered. Shockwave lowered his head marginally, the only clue that he was now scanning the list. A moment later, Octane's optics widened.

 "Asporium? Do you have any idea how hard that stuff is to find?"

 "Better; I know how much it's worth," Starscream said. Octane fidgeted, looking yet again at Shockwave.

 "Then what makes you think I'd have any? I mean, something that rare and that costly... Those are pretty low odds, you know?"

 Starscream's answering smirk felt forced. "Since when have you ever known me to bet on a sure thing? Now do you have any or not? I don't have time to play games."

 "Let's say for a klik that I do,” Octane said slowly. “How much is it worth to you?"

 "That depends," Starscream replied, almost sagging with relief. "How much is it worth to _you_ to have connections to a high-ranking officer who's willing to bale you out when your scams get you in trouble?"

 "Starscream," Shockwave broke in. "Why do you need this particular collection of materials?"

 Starscream hesitated, then shrugged and raised his arm to reveal the now much larger patch of rust on his hand. "Isn't it obvious?"

 Even without facial features, Shockwave's stare seemed almost baleful. "Cosmic Rust. Only you could manage to pick up such a virulent disease."

 "Actually, I caught it from Megatron," Starscream said smugly, choosing to ignore the detail of his handling the rock which infected Megatron to begin with. "Remember when I said he's alive _for now?"_

 "Did I miss something?" Octane asked. "What are you guys talking about?"

 "Basically, I'm dying," Starscream explained, studying his hand and finding several small spots of brown around the joints of his fingers. "We all are. I don't know who's infected and who isn't, but we could have a dozen cases by now. That list you've got there is the recipe for the cure."

 "Which requires asporium," Shockwave finished, turning to Octane. "Something I don't have on hand, due to its rarity and limited usefulness."

 "I've gotten you out of tight spots before, more times than I can count," Starscream added, holding his hand against his canopy again. "You _owe_ me, Octane."

 Octane looked back and forth between the two scientists. "Uh... Yeah, no problem. How much do you need?"

 "I will see to mixing up the cure," Shockwave announced. Starscream started to object, but the other interrupted. "You might know how to make it, but you're also infected, and that would hinder you. It's faster and easier to make it where the ingredients are already assembled."

 Starscream scoffed. _"Cybertonium deficiency_ was a hindrance. _This_ is just..."

 "Deadly?" Octane offered when Starscream trailed off. The Seeker grunted, moving his hand lower to hide it from view.

 "In any case, it's still isolated. And until it metastasizes, I'm no more impaired than you would be. Less, really, since I still have both of _my_ hands."

 "Tell you what, I'm just gonna go... get the asporium," Octane mumbled, backing out of sight.

 “You do,” Shockwave agreed, ignoring Octane. “For now.”

 Starscream snorted. “Oh, _very_ clever. Why don’t you do something _useful_ instead of throwing my own words back at me? Like gathering the rest of the materials on my list?”

 “You’ve never even made the cure before,” Shockwave persisted. “If you make one mistake,  you won’t get a chance to make another.”

 “Yes, because you know _so_ much about this rust and how it works.”

 “I couldn’t have developed a cure if I didn’t.”

 Starscream barely held back a frustrated shriek at those words. “Of _course_ you developed it. You’ve done _everything_ , haven’t you?”

 “That wouldn’t be possible,” Shockwave stated, and as usual, Starscream couldn’t tell if he was oblivious to the rhetoric or simply choosing to ignore it. “However, I would be a poor scientist if I didn’t find a cure for my own creation.”

 Starscream stared at him, previous bitterness forgotten. “You _created_ Cosmic Rust?”

 “Of course. Surely you didn’t think such a disease was naturally occurring.”

 “I... hadn’t thought about it,” Starscream admitted grudgingly. Now that he _did_ think about it, though, Cosmic Rust had all the hallmarks of a bioweapon: fast-acting, highly contagious and consistently fatal without a cure. That he had never heard of it before stumbling across Shockwave’s notes lent further credibility to the claim. Yet he found himself hoping it _wasn’t_ true, and he latched onto the first reason he could think of why it couldn’t be.

 “I found your notes on it _vorns_ before the crash here on Earth. If you created this you had plenty of time to tell the rest of us, so why didn’t you?”

 “Because this weapon was developed in response to the mass exodus of Autobots leaving Cybertron, and was only ever intended for use on planets without a Decepticon presence. Even with a cure, the risk of infecting our own army was too great for injudicious use.”

 “Why, Shockwave,” Starscream exclaimed with surprise that was only partly feigned, “are you saying you didn’t _trust_ our leader with this knowledge?”

 “Megatron… does not always consider the negatives of a given action. I believed it would be safer if he remained ignorant.” Shockwave’s voice hardened. “And you wouldn’t have known of its existence, either, had you not been snooping.”

 “Spare me the lecture. I have good reason to be suspicious of what you get up to when no one’s looking. And I find it completely insulting that you assumed I would be as careless with the rust as Megatron.”

 “I didn’t inform you because you would have wasted a great deal of time arguing with me,” Shockwave corrected. “You have a very limited perspective of how science should be used in war.”

 “It’s called having _morals._ Not that I would expect _you_ to know anything about _that.”_

 “As fascinating as I find our discussions about ethics, this isn’t the time,” Shockwave said in a tone which suggested he found them to be anything but. “Cosmic Rust might be curable, but death can still occur from systems failure if it’s administered too late.”

 “Does that mean you’re done arguing with me?” Starscream asked hopefully.

 “Indeed. I will alert you when the cure is ready.”

  _"What?_ That isn’t what- I already said _I_ would see to it!”

 “You did. But as Octane pointed out, you aren’t here.”

 Starscream leapt to his feet with a snarl. “Don’t you _dare_ disconnect, you-”

The screen went dark before he could finish his threat. For a moment he could only stare, openmouthed. Then he kicked the side of the console as hard as he could. “That _glitch!”_

 He leaned forward to brace his good hand on the control panel and glared at the monitor. What was he going to do now? There wasn’t anything he _could_ do with Shockwave on Cybertron, unless he went there himself to enforce his authority. But given his current condition, that wasn’t likely to do much good anyway. Unless…

 That would work, he decided, activating his comm unit again. “Skywarp, Thundercracker, to the Command Center. Immediately.”

 When it came to Skywarp, “immediately” meant just that. Starscream barely had time to turn to face the room and hide his hand before a flash of purple announced the arrival of his Trine.

 ”What’s up?” Skywarp demanded, already looking around the room as though expecting a fight. Thundercracker was scowling as he pulled his arm free of Skywarp’s hold, but the expression softened slightly when he spotted Starscream.

 “You okay?” he asked. It was a reasonable question since Starscream never demanded his Trinemates’ instant appearance except in emergencies, but after recent events, he found it annoying.

 “I’m _fine,”_ he snapped automatically. Then he caught himself and sighed, dropping his wings a little in an awkward apology. “No I’m not. We have a problem.”

 “Why, what’s wrong?” Skywarp asked, ending his suspicious scrutiny of the room to study Starscream instead. “Are you hurt? You don’t look hurt.”

 He started forward and Starscream immediately took an equal step back, slamming into the computer. _“Don’t_ come near me. I _mean_ it, Skywarp!” he added when Skywarp tried to argue. “I’m sick and contagious, and you _don’t_ want to catch this.”

 Thundercracker frowned. “Nanovirus?”

 Starscream grimaced. “I wish.” He paused, then sighed again and moved his hand where they could see it, flicking his wings back up to warn them against approaching.

 “Is that... rust?” Skywarp asked, leaning forward to get a better look. Starscream burst out laughing, making the dark Seeker jerk back again.

 “See? _You_ know what it is! Megatron didn’t believe me!”

 “Okay...” Skywarp said slowly, exchanging a glance with Thundercracker. “Why’s that funny?”

 Starscream shook his head, still chuckling. “Because you’re you, and Megatron’s supposed to be some sort of... of brilliant strategist. In his world, any- any-”

 His laughter broke off in a fit of coughing, drawing startled exclamations from the other two. It only lasted a moment and wasn’t painful, but it left Starscream with a cold feeling of dread. “Frag,” he rasped, pressing his bad hand to his chest. “It’s not supposed to spread that fast.”

 “What’s not supposed to?” Thundercracker demanded. He stepped forward only to stop again, wings twitching. “What _is_ that?”

 “I’ll explain later, right now there’s no time.” Starscream cycled a deep, slow ventilation, and shuddered when it started a light tickle in his chest. “I need you to go to Cybertron. I can’t, not like this, and Shockwave…”

  _Calm down,_ he told himself sternly, taking another invent. _At least_ **_try_ ** _to make sense!_

 “Megatron, Astrotrain and I are all sick,” he began, speaking quickly. “Maybe others too, but we’re the confirmed cases. There _is_ a cure, and I just contacted Cybertron about getting the ingredients for it, but Shockwave decided _he’s_ going to make it.”

 “And that’s... a bad thing,” Thundercracker said slowly. Starscream glared at him.

 “Of course it is! I don’t trust anything that comes out of Shockwave’s lab, and anyway, _I_ was the one who figured out what we’ve been infected with!”

 Thundercracker groaned. _“Really?_ There’s some kind of rusting disease going around, and you’re worried about, what? Who’s going to get the credit for curing it?”

 “That surprises you?” Skywarp asked.  “We’re talking about _Starscream_ here.”

 “I _can_ hear you,” Starscream bit out. “And I _didn’t_ say that.”

 “Actually, you kinda did,” Skywarp said. “So what do you want us for?”

 “To go to Cybertron,” Thundercracker recalled. His optics narrowed. “Tell me you don’t want us to interfere with Shockwave.”

 Starscream dropped his gaze to study his rusted fingers. “It sounds _bad_ when you say it that way.”

 “Starscream! If you and who knows how many other people are sick, who _cares_ who makes the cure?”

 “It’s a matter of _principle,_ Thundercracker. As in, Shockwave doesn’t have any.” Starscream looked up from his fingers. “I already said I don’t trust anything he concocts.”

 “If Megatron’s sick too, I don’t think Shockwave’s gonna try anything, Screamer,” Skywarp said doubtfully.

 “If he knows he’s sick,” Thundercracker added. “You did tell him, didn’t you?”

 Frag it all, they didn’t have _time_ for this! Starscream turned away from them with a low growl, which turned into an angry hiss when one wing knocked hard against the monitor behind him. He flicked the stinging appendage and braced his good hand on the console again, pressing the other back to his chest. “Be that way,” he muttered resentfully. “But even if _Shockwave_ makes the cure, someone still needs to collect it.”

 “That, we can do,” Thundercracker said. There was a short pause, then a sigh. “If you really mistrust Shockwave that much, we can try to get some of the base materials for you. But I’m not going to make everyone else suffer just so you can keep your pride intact.”

 “Just go!” Starscream snapped harshly, shoving himself away from the computer. “I don’t care _what_ you do, just do it on Cybertron!”

 He turned sharply, cursing when his other wing clipped the screen, then stomped from the room without listening to what Skywarp was calling after him. It _so_ figured. A couple months earlier he’d almost died, and suddenly the pair of them wouldn’t leave him alone. But as soon as he actually _needed_ their help, they turned on him. Why? Did they share Shockwave’s belief that he would mess up the cure?

 They probably did. Thundercracker wouldn’t have made that last comment if he didn’t, and Skywarp would just go along with whatever Thundercracker thought. That was probably why they’d been so “concerned” after Megatron almost killed him, too; they thought he was incompetent and unable to even protect himself.

 He paused in his silent tirade when he came to a fork in the hallway, and his gaze turned towards the med bay. That was really where he should go next, whether to check himself in or just to get an update on Soundwave and the cassettes. Alternatively he could return to Megatron and give his own update. Or return to Megatron and kill him, that was still an option.

 Except it wasn't, really. Not with Starscream's own survival now dependent on Shockwave, who would regard Megatron's sudden death with suspicion.

 Option four: he could leave them all to fend for themselves, since they clearly didn’t want him involved anyway. Didn’t _need_ him involved.

 It wasn’t a hard decision. He turned down the hall to the residential sector, and although he faltered briefly when he reached the branch-off which led to Megatron’s quarters, he kept going. Someone would comm him if he was needed, unlikely as that was to happen. Everything was already in motion. Soon enough Megatron would have his Autobot, the Decepticons would have the cure, and there was nothing more Starscream could do on either count.

 Correction: there _was_ one thing. He sighed heavily, triggering another cough, then activated his comm unit again. “Dirge, the Stunticons just left in pursuit of an Autobot. In the unlikely event that they actually _catch_ him, I want you and Ramjet to take him to Megatron. You’ll most likely find our _fearless_ leader in his quarters.”

 ::What about Thrust?:: Dirge asked, sounding confused.

 Starscream snorted. “You’ll find _him_ in the training room having a throwdown with Shrapnel. I would advise you check there on your way to the Command Center to make sure he hasn’t become Insecticon chow.”

 Dirge sighed. ::They _do_ tend to fight in a group. I’ll deal with him.::

 ::Good.:: Starscream used his left hand to key in the door code to his quarters, and pinged the lights with a command to come on at only half-power as he entered. “If he _did_ get scrapped, you’ll have to take care of him yourselves. The Constructicons are busy.”

 ::I’ll keep that in mind. Dirge out..::

 The line went dead, but Starscream felt only a flicker of annoyance. Manners and protocol generally meant little to a Seeker who needed to either save or kill their Trinemates, and Air Commander or not, Starscream tried not to interfere with other Trines. So he decided to put it from his mind and sat down heavily at his desk.

 He really needed to do… something. He was sure there was work to be done, work that _didn’t_ involve the potential plague looming on the horizon, but right at that moment he couldn’t think what it could be.

 He flexed the fingers of his right hand, wincing when pain flared in the joints. On second thought, maybe it would be better to stay put. There wasn’t much he could do right now except expose everyone around him to the rust, and even if his Trine brought back ingredients for the cure, he wouldn’t be in any condition to prepare it if they waited on Shockwave first.

 He growled softly and flopped down across the desktop, folding his arms in front of his face. He’d meant it when he said he didn’t trust Shockwave, but that was only a small part of the problem. And it wasn’t about getting _credit_ for the cure; at least, not in the sense Thundercracker had meant. It was about-

 He stopped the thought. That didn’t matter. He wasn’t part of the situation anymore, except in so far as he needed the cure himself. He could still keep up with events and coordinate mechs over comms, of course, and he really should _._ But he hadn’t stopped moving since the expedition team returned from that accursed planet, almost everyone he’d spoken to in the last few hours had wanted to argue with him, and he was tired. Tired of people, tired of running back and forth for no purpose… He was just _tired._

 He sighed again and shut off his optics, trying to ignore the tickle in his vents. Frag it. He was taking a break, and if Megatron didn’t like it, too bad. He didn’t get a say.

* * *

  
Starscream hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but when he awakened his chronometer told him that he’d been out for several hours. At first he thought it was the dull, insistent ache throughout his body that had roused him, but then a hand shook his shoulder (again?) and he raised his head from the desktop, staring blearily at the mech standing over him. The first thing he registered was that it was Megatron, but his earlier anger barely had time to stir before his leader’s current state sank in, replacing the flicker of hostility with bemusement. Megatron was… very shiny. Shiny to the point where, from this close, Starscream could actually see his own reflection in the polished metal.

 “What happened to _you?”_

 “Perceptor,” Megatron replied curtly. Belatedly, Starscream noticed two more things: Megatron was free of rust, and he appeared to be in a bad mood. Before Starscream could decide if he was in trouble, however, the hand on his shoulder moved to the back of his neck, shoving him back down against the desk. The action wasn’t rough - for Megatron - but Starscream yelped in surprise, and began to resist on reflex.

 “What are you-?”

 “Hold still,” Megatron interrupted. His grip tightened as he spoke, and Starscream froze instinctively. After a few moments the hold relaxed slightly and Megatron’s thumb pressed into his neck, working in between two cables. Starscream started again to demand an explanation  when the digit brushed against a fuel line, but the sharp pinch of what felt like a needle entering the same line made him break off with a hiss.

 “You’re lucky I thought to ask if you ever reported to the med bay,” Megatron said as Starscream snarled and squirmed. “Hook wasn’t happy to find out that you were infected and hadn’t told anyone.”

 “I did!” Starscream snapped. “I told Skywarp and Thundercracker.”

 “And they aren’t happy that you kept this to yourself either.” The sting subsided and Megatron brushed the cables back into place with a swipe of his thumb, although his hand lingered on Starscream’s neck. “You’re equally lucky that they returned with a cure a short while ago.”

 “Why? Didn’t your little Autobot gamble pay off? And how did _you_ know I was sick if they just got back?” Starscream took a chance and twisted under Megatron’s hand so he could peer over his shoulder at his leader. Megatron let him, but the dark look on his face made Starscream think twice about trying for total freedom just yet.

 “Perceptor served his purpose,” Megatron growled. “Unfortunately, it was also because of him that we were unsuccessful in turning this ‘Cosmic Rust’ on the Autobots.”

 Starscream was stunned. “He actually knew what it was? And _told_ you?”

 “He’s surprisingly reasonable, for an Autobot. He also made it clear that this rust is highly contagious, which should answer your earlier question. You did handle the meteor which carried the disease.”

  _Meteorite,_ Starscream corrected silently. But as he was still unsure whether Megatron was mad at _him_ or not, he refrained from actually saying it. He cast around for something else and settled on, “Has it occurred to you yet that, since we have a cure other than Perceptor’s magic wax, we never needed him to begin with?”

 Then again, maybe the meteorite comment would have been safer. But Megatron only grunted and began to stroke Starscream’s upper back, simultaneously annoying him and assuring him that he wasn’t the cause of his leader’s anger - although that didn’t necessarily mean he wouldn’t become the target of it. Starscream briefly considered shrugging off the hand, but he was still tired despite his impromptu nap, and the contact was a welcome distraction from the pain. So he decided to endure it for now and lowered his chin to the desktop, throwing in an impatient sigh to make it clear that he was _not_ enjoying it.

 He regretted that last touch when it set off yet another coughing fit, this one more painful than the previous few. He half expected some disparaging comment, never mind that Megatron had been in a similar position mere hours earlier, but to his surprise none came.

 “I would target Perceptor again if it meant getting a chance to finally destroy the Autobots,” Megatron said after Starscream had quieted. “But as his help was ultimately minimal, I must admit it was a good thing that Shockwave knew how to cure this.”

 “Shockwave?” Starscream twisted to stare up at Megatron again, his previous fury returning in a rush. “Who cares about _Shockwave?_ He wouldn’t have even known what was going on if it wasn’t for _me!”_

 “Acknowledgement is for those who actually accomplish something, Starscream. Not for messengers.”

  _“Messenger?”_ Starscream tried to shove himself upright, heedless of the hand now pressing down between his shoulders, but the burning in his chest flared into sharp pain, and his position made getting leverage difficult. After a few seconds he reluctantly subsided, panting shallowly in an effort to ease the discomfort.

 “I would suggest you avoid straining yourself,” Megatron told him. “Shockwave’s cure seems to work more slowly than Perceptor’s, and in your state you’ll only make things worse.”

 “Like you care,” Starscream spat. He gave in to his growing need to cough again, then fixed Megatron with a hostile stare. “Why are you even here?”

 “Because all the Constructicons are either sick or busy, and your Trine has had minimal exposure to the disease. There’s no point in wasting resources to cure mechs who didn’t have to get sick in the first place.”

 “I don’t want them here anyway,” Starscream muttered bitterly. He pulled his left arm up for use as a head rest and added, “I don’t want _you_ here, either.”

 “That’s hardly a surprise.” Megatron resumed petting him, seemingly satisfied that he would make no further attempt at resistance. “As long as we’re being honest, I can’t say I particularly care for _your_ presence when I’m injured.”

 “And yet, you never make me leave.”

 “Unlike some people I could mention, I don’t try to drive away those giving me medical aid.”

 Starscream gave him a sidelong glare. “Sticking a needle in me without warning does _not_ qualify as ‘medical aid’.”

 “And the so-called ‘operation’ you performed earlier does?”

 “Completely different. You knew what I was doing, but _anything_ could have been in…” Starscream trailed off, eying Megatron with sudden suspicion. To his irritation Megatron just chuckled.

 “Relax, Starscream. If I wanted to get rid of you, I would have left you to rust.”

 “How do I know you still won’t? I never saw the stuff you put in me, it could have been nothing but energon for all I know!” And Thundercracker _wondered_ why Starscream didn’t want anything of unknown composition entering his body?

 Megatron shrugged. “You’ll just have to trust me. Just like I have to trust that you won’t one day make a bid for power while I’m down.”

 Starscream scoffed. “That’s not trust, that’s stupidity. And I wouldn’t trust you even if my life depended on it!”

 “Oh, I think you value your life more than that. And before you argue further, consider this: right now, your life _does_ depend on it. You won’t live much longer if what I gave you wasn’t the cure.”

 Starscream growled and straightened, finally dislodging Megatron’s hand. “I should have left _you_ to rust.”

 “And yet, you didn’t. You never take the opportunities you claim to wait for.”

 “That doesn’t mean I never _will.”_

 “Perhaps.” Megatron’s other hand came up suddenly, and although Starscream lurched back, he wasn’t quick enough to avoid the fingers that caught his jaw. Then Megatron leaned down, his grip tightening when Starscream tried to pull free. “But if I thought there was any chance of that happening, I wouldn’t allow you near me.”

 Starscream glowered at him, refusing to be the one to break optical contact. At length Megatron snorted and released him. “Report to the med bay as soon as the rust clears up. Until Hook says otherwise, you’re off-duty.”

 “I don’t _need_ to be removed from duty-” Starscream began, but Megatron cut him off with a laugh and turned away.

 “Try looking in a mirror before you claim to be fine,” he threw over his shoulder. “A mech would have to be blind to believe you.”

 Starscream frowned and shoved his chair back, then stared in fascinated horror at the dark, rough patches covering his body. His right arm, in particular, seemed ready to fall apart, and he belatedly realized that he couldn’t feel much from the elbow down anymore. It wasn’t hard to see why Megatron told him not to strain himself, and that was infuriating.

 “Who needs a mirror when you look like _that?”_ Starscream demanded, determined to have the last word. Megatron paused to glance back at him, a taunting smile just visible on his face.

 “Jealous, Starscream?” he inquired mildly.

 Starscream gaped at him. “You- Get out of my quarters!”

 He could hear Megatron laughing _again_ as he left the room, and for the second time that day he felt like screaming in frustration. Instead he dropped his head back to the desk with a _clang,_ staring moodily at the scuffed metal in front of his optics.

 It never failed. No matter how much Starscream did for the Decepticons, no matter how much he did for _Megatron,_ he received nothing from anyone. No credit, no acknowledgement…

 No approval.

 “Should have killed him,” he muttered. “I should have fragging killed him.”

  _I’ll do it next time,_ he assured himself. _There’s_ **_always_ ** _a next time._

 But in his spark, he knew only half of that sentiment was true.  


**Author's Note:**

> Episode references in order of appearance:
> 
> Monicus and Gyconi: "The Gambler"  
> Cybertonium Deficiency: "Desertion of the Dinobots"  
> Megatron almost killing Starscream: "Hoist Goes Hollywood"
> 
> Also, to any Shockwave fans out there, you might enjoy my four-part series of flash fics titled "Unanticipated Variables".


End file.
